


Echolocation

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Degrassi RPF
Genre: F/F, Los Angeles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-18
Updated: 2008-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine





	Echolocation

She doesn't even think about being jealous. Not until later when Lauren asks, into the phone, incredulous, "You aren't jealous?" does it even cross her mind.

Then she considers, mulls it around for awhile. She thinks that she really _should_ be jealous. She shouldn't have smiled so hugely, shouldn't have thrown her door open wide, shouldn't have captured Shenae in a hug so hard that the younger girl took a moment to catch her breath afterwards. It's not logical, really. She can almost hear Lauren shaking her head from across the continent.

She doesn't even think of the consequence. Not when she realizes that Shenae smokes more than Lauren ever did, not when she understands that Shenae is a different sort of person than the girl Deanna left behind two years ago.

There are things that Deanna knows: how to kiss, how to dance, how to dress, how to make a killer omelet. Shenae, somehow, blows all of these out of the water. Deanna finds herself, floating, confused. Learning again, like a toddler for the first time, or a paralytic, rediscovering how it feels when food slides down a functional throat.

Shenae doesn't care what the cameras see, though they seem to be on every street corner. They wait at in the hallways, outside windows, in front of cars. She blows them away in a puff of smoke, pulls Deanna to her and _doesn't care_.

She cares about the important things, she says, like finding the perfect avocado at the market, or bringing the feeling back into Deanna's feet after sitting on them for the entire stretch of _Julien Donkey Boy_ , wanting to cry afterwards because of the confusion stirring inside of her, but lying against Deanna and moving her lips with the slightest whisper of movement against goosebumped skin.

Deanna catches on quickly: carrying an extra lighter in her pocket, offering a light while cursing the habit (though she knows, she won't be able to fall asleep next week when Shenae goes to New York and takes her unfiltered smokes with her), learning not to shake when Shenae takes her hand in a crowd, learning not to shove away when Shenae presses her body up and takes a taste of the anti-oxidant tea Deanna is sipping.

The LA sun is good for both of them. Deanna has long ago tucked away her sweaters and jackets, and shows the boxes to Shenae who smiles, crooked, tossing her warm clothes instead under the bed.

The bed makes Deanna shiver even on the warmest day. The ashtray on the bed stand is full of half-smoked butts, one still whispering carcinogens into the air. Fourth floor apartment means they can open the window, strip in the moonlight.

Deanna has always been lips, tongue, fingers, hips. The language of Shenae's teeth around her nipples, around her clit, is at first foreign (beautiful) and suddenly, before she can even define it, the easiest thing to understand.


End file.
